


repeat the sounding joy

by skuls



Series: Joy to the World [2]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Christmas fic, F/M, set in the "mulder and scully get william back" universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 14:58:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13126074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skuls/pseuds/skuls
Summary: Christmas with Mulder and Scully and William.





	repeat the sounding joy

Sometimes she can’t believe that they’re here. How close she was to losing all of this.

Mulder and William watch the snow fall from the giant window in their farm house, William putting a tiny hand to the cold glass, and she watches from the kitchen, and she remembers that neither of them should be here. It’s only been months since she sent William away, months since she got Mulder back, months since she got William back. She remembers that she watched a social worker carry her son away while he whined for her, that Mulder was sentenced to death and, by all accounts, should be dead right now. If they catch them, he will be. She shouldn’t have this. She had to lie and cheat to get this. If the Gunmen hadn’t intervened, she would’ve lost her son forever, and it would’ve been no one’s fault but her own. She watches, wiping her eyes with the sleeves of her sweater.

William sees her, and his face lights up. “Mama,” he says, reaching for her.

Mulder turns towards her with their son in his arms, and his face lights up, too. “Hey, Scully,” he says, motioning her forward. 

She steps a little closer and he pulls her into them with an arm around her waist. William wraps his chubby arms around her neck, and she leans down to kiss his forehead, hauling him into her arms. “Daddy snow,” he says, patting her face.

“Daddy snow?” She kisses him again. “You like the snow? It’s pretty, right?”

“Yeah!” William wriggles in her arms, balanced between their chests.

It’s been such a relief how quickly William has taken to Mulder, started trusting him. Started calling him Daddy. There was such a long time that she thought they’d never got to know each other. She sniffles before she can help it.

Mulder kisses her face, right below her eye. “Hey, are you okay?” he asks softly, brushing her hair away, thumbing the corner of her eye. 

Scully leans into them, letting Mulder hug them close. “I’m fine,” she says into his shirt. “I just never thought I’d have this.”

 

* * *

 

Their house is near empty, all pine-wood floors and hollow shelves. Their furniture is limited to a couch, a rickety table with two chairs and a high-chair, a bed, and a crib. The crib is the nicest thing they own. But somehow, Mulder has managed a Christmas tree.

It’s a fairly sad little pine tree that reminds Scully a little of  _Charlie Brown_ ; one that he could drag back from the woods on his own, she supposes. He’d wanted it to be a surprise. William is just as fascinated by it as he’d hoped, watching it with wide-eyed delight as he sits on Scully’s lap on the floor. Scully remembers the lonely Christmas season they’d spent in her apartment last year, while Mulder was off doing God-knows-what, and is grateful for their ancient house with no furniture and a rapidly shedding tree. She hugs William a little closer.

“Hey.” Mulder’s fingers brush over her shoulders as he sits down beside them. He smells like sugar from the cookies he baked earlier, and like the dark scent of coffee. William crawls from her lap to his, burrowing into his stomach. Mulder wraps one arm around her and one arm around his son, pressing his cold mouth into her hair. “Merry Christmas,” he mumbles. 

Scully smiles, reaching for William’s hand. “Merry three-days-before-Christmas,” she says. 

“I was thinking,” he says, carefully. She turns to look at him, shifting so that they’re nose to nose. “I think you and Will should go to your mother’s.” 

She’s already shaking her head. “Mulder, no.”

“You should have a good Christmas.” Mulder starts, putting his hand on her knee. “And I know how much you’ve missed her. I want you to be happy…” 

“This makes me happy,” she says. “Being here with you two.” 

William has found one of his model cars and is using Mulder’s leg as a track. He makes a rumbling sound with his mouth, running it over Mulder’s knee. Mulder reaches down and strokes his back. “Are you sure?” he asks quietly.

She leans forward and kisses him. “We have enough money set aside to give William a nice Christmas,” she says. “I want to be here with you. Nowhere else in the world.” 

Mulder reaches up to cup her cheek, his fingers cold against her skin. “I love you both so much,” he says in a rough voice. She kisses him again, slower this time. 

William bumps the car into Mulder’s foot. It falls from his hand onto the floor. “Car cash!” he says indignantly, poking Scully’s knee. “Car cash, Mama!”

Scully turns to her son. “It did, huh?” She reaches down to tickle his side. William squirms, giggling and kicking.

Mulder grabs the car and hands it back to his son. “Hope this isn’t a premonition to when the kid starts driving, Scully,” he says, humor in his voice. 

“Drivin,” William says, running the car over the floorboards. “Drivin fass.” 

 

* * *

 

It’s snowed six feet by Christmas Eve, and it’s always freezing in the house. Scully wraps herself and William in blankets and curls up with him on the couch while  _Rudolph_ plays in the background. William pulls the knit blanket over his head and wails like a ghost, his arms sticking out from under it. Scully bursts into giggles, kissing the top of his blanket-covered head. She’d thought Will was too young to hear the ghost stories Mulder likes to tell in front of the fire, but he loves them. She thinks her son might be braver than her. 

“Where Daddy?” William asks from underneath the blanket. 

Scully pulls the blanket off of his head. “Daddy had to drive into town,” she says. She’s been mentally cursing herself all week for ordering the presents so late; they just arrived today. Mulder had insisted on going, claiming that his New England blood made him more qualified to drive in the snow. Protective of her to the end. “But he’ll be back by tonight.”

“For Kissmus.”

“Yeah, just in time for Christmas.” Scully shivers, wrapping the quilts tighter around her. “And Santa’s gonna come tonight.”

“Uh-huh.” William pulls the blanket back over his head and leans against her side. She smiles and wraps an arm around him.

The sun moves across the sky slowly, eventually cloaked by clouds. Scully plays video after video, Christmas specials that her mom sent at Thanksgiving. William eventually gets tired, crawling in her lap and falling asleep. She strokes his hair and flicks off the TV, resting her head against the back of the couch. Remembers how warm it was last Christmas, with William napping in the fold-up bassinet that they’d brought to San Diego and Matthew watching cartoons on the living room rug and Tara baking cookies in the kitchen. The absence of Mulder a cold stone in her chest. She wonders, just for a moment, what the people he’d been staying with would’ve done for Christmas. If they would’ve gotten him presents, treated him like their own son. If he would’ve missed her. If he would’ve remembered her. She doesn’t want to think about it, but it slips into her mind like a knife, cold and sharp. William snuffles in his sleep, curling his chubby fingers around the hem of her shirt, and she swallows back the lump in her throat.  _He is here now,_  she reminds herself.  _He is here now and you’re not going to leave him again._ She misses Mulder. It is dark and cold outside, the darkest night of the year, and she needs to find some light.

An hour or two later, headlights flash across the window, and she smiles with relief. “Hey, Will,” she whispers, shaking his shoulder. “Will. Wake up, Daddy’s home.”

He wakes slowly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, but as soon as the door opens, he perks right up. “Daddy?” he calls out sleepily as soon as the door opens, Mulder entering dusted in snow. 

Mulder grins at them, coming closer and scooping him up. “Merry Christmas, buddy.” He kisses the top of his head.

Scully stands, leaning in to kiss him hello. “You driving in the snow terrifies me,” she murmurs. 

“I’m okay, doc.” He kisses the top of her head. “I made it to the post office with no problem.”

“And no one recognized you?” she asks worriedly, tugging at his coat.

He shakes his head. “I think they’re just happy to have me off the radar, for now. If I keep my head down, I’ll be fine.”

Relief fills her. She smiles and leans her head against his shoulder. William is leaning against the other shoulder, eyes half-closed and his thumb in his mouth. “We should probably get him on to bed,” she whispers. 

“Right.” Mulder turns away, carrying William towards the bedroom, and Scully follows. William’s asleep before he hits the mattress. They tuck him in, take turns kissing him goodnight, and close the door behind them. 

Outside the door, Mulder embraces her fully. She presses her face into the wool of his coat. “I am so grateful we have this,” Mulder says, his hand cupping the back of her head, and there is no hint of assigning blame, no malice to his words. Just true gratitude.

“You told me to never give up on a miracle,” she says, pulling back to face him. Three years ago to the day, to be exact: the day they found out that the IVF failed. “And I didn’t.”

He thumbs the side of her cheek affectionately. “No, you didn’t,” he says, the lights from the tree reflected in his eyes. He kisses her forehead slowly; she smooths her hands over his hips. “Merry Christmas, Scully,” he whispers.

She hugs him tighter, thinking of the next morning, watching William open his presents, retrieving the package she has stashed in one of the cabinets to give to Mulder. “Merry Christmas,” she says, and finds she really, really means it. All other things aside, all the moments of fear or regret or guilt, this is the happiest Christmas she’s had in a long time. The most joyful.


End file.
